American Honey
by efficacious humorosity
Summary: Post DH.  Does not comply with epilogue.  Hermione's American cousin, who is having a rough time, comes to stay with the Trio in London.  Set three years after the Final Battle.  R/OC, H/Hr  Rated for language and some sexuality.
1. American Honey

**A/N: I own nothing. This is set after Deathly Hallows, but it does not comply with the epilogue. Non-canon pairings. It switches POV. Please read and review! **

Chapter 1

Hermione's POV

I honestly don't know why I stayed with him so long. Two years, in fact. That's twenty four months. Seven hundred and thirty days of my life that I spent with Ronald Weasley.

Even after Harry's and Ginny's relationship imploded in a rather spectacular way at dinner one night. But that's another story for another time.

I guess… I guess I stayed with him because maybe I felt like that was my designated role. That, with Ginny in the picture, the four of us coupled off really well, and I didn't want to be the one to fuck that up.

But that doesn't explain why I stayed with him after Ginny left Harry. Or was it Harry that left Ginny? I can never tell. I'm not entirely sure that it matters.

I think I know. I just didn't want to rock the boat. From sixth year (maybe fifth year even, on) it was assumed that Ronald and I would get together and stay together forever. That we would marry and pop out children, just like his mother before him. And I suppose at some point in my life, that's _exactly_ what I wanted: a life with Ron Weasley. But… plans change. What I wanted changed.

Scratch that. I wanted the same thing. A successful career, a loving boyfriend and eventually husband, to settle down and raise a nice family. But Ron couldn't give me that.

Not that he's not capable of it, he just wasn't right for me. I'm sure he'll give _some_ girl that _some_ day. But not me, and certainly not today.

I didn't want to go against the status quo. I didn't want to break the heart of one of my lifelong friends. So I said nothing.

At least, until he got down on one knee at dinner.

When confronted with the very real prospect of a long life with Ronald Weasley, I did the only sensible thing there was left for me to do.

I broke up with him.

_"Hermione, will you do me the honor of being my wife?" _

_ "No… I'm sorry, but we're… we're through." _

He didn't take it very well, not that anyone (myself included) expected him to. It was my fault, really. I should've have ended things far before they got to that point. But I hadn't, and I had to deal with the consequences. Namely, him showing up at my flat every day, demanding to know how he fucked up, him calling me (I was surprised he learned how to properly work a telephone), and him constantly bombarding me with owls, inquiring as to what he could do to fix things.

The first few weeks, I always answered, I always told him the same thing.

_"Ron, there's nothing you can do. You didn't do anything wrong, I swear it. It really is just me. You're just not right for me." _

But, stubborn as ever, he refused to let up.

That is, until that night about three months later. I went over to Harry's flat, wanting to talk to one of my mates (seeing as Ron wasn't an option). It didn't quite go as planned.

In the middle of our conversation, Harry professed his love for me. Completely interrupted me.

_"So when I woke up the other morning-" _

_ "I love you, Hermione." _

_ "What did you just say?" _

_ "I said I love you." _

I was overwhelmed with it all; with the break up with Ron, with Harry (Harry!), my best mate, professing his love for me. Honestly, I had always fancied him. But somewhere around fourth year, when I saw just how taken he was with Cho, I gave up. I did the opposite of what I told Ginny, and I just gave up completely. Eventually, I began to fancy Ron, constantly reminding myself that Harry was far out of my league. Seeing him with Ginny was… confusing. I knew I didn't like them together, but I could never put my finger on the why, without admitting to myself how I felt about Harry. After they split, I convinced myself that it was because of how she treated him, how she used him to bolster her name. And that, I suppose, was a valid reason. But it wasn't _the_ reason.

Harry and I fell into bed together that night.

In retrospect, it sounds like I was easy, but I had been pining after Harry for _years_. I had waited long enough. We've been together ever since.

What we didn't count on was Ron bursting into Harry's flat (Harry had completely forgotten that he had given him a key) and walking in on us in bed together. That put a damper on things.

But more importantly, Ron took one look at us and stormed out the way he came. He didn't talk to either of us for _three months._ Not a single word.

It was most definitely the worst fight any of us had ever had, even worse than sixth year when Ron was dating Lavender.

I don't really know what made him come around. Harry swears he didn't talk to him, but I'm not entirely convinced. Ron is a stubborn bloke, and Harry is probably the only person alive that could change his mind.

Things were awkward for a while. A long time, actually.

We tried to piece the "Golden Trio" back together again. Ron and I tried to put our friendship back together entirely, as we hadn't exactly been on good terms for half a year.

Then, one day, I caught Harry and Ron joking around. There was nothing forced about it, it flowed from them as easily as water flows in a river. When I entered the room, they turned their banter on me, and neither of them appeared to be worrying about whether or not this would make things awkward.

And that's when I knew that things were back to normal. Just as they are now. The three of us bought a larger flat (we all gave up our old ones) together, Harry and I taking one bedroom, Ron a second, and leaving the third open as a guest room. Ron still froze sometimes when he saw Harry kiss me or saw us holding hands. But it was only for a moment. Then he'd shake his head and smile genuinely, truly happy for us.

A month after the day I heard them joking, I received a letter from my mum. After Voldemort's defeat, the three of us traveled to Australia to retrieve my parents and restore their memories.

Sometimes, I even managed to forget that the whole Voldemort fiasco had ever happened.

But then I would see George. Alone, lost, and drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Firewhiskey.

Or I would see Teddy, cradled in the arms of his grandmother, because both of his parents were gone.

Or I would see a house elf and remember watching Harry hold Dobby as the life faded from his eyes.

Or I would look at Harry, the man I loved, and remember those few awful minutes (that felt like years) in which I believed him to be dead.

No. I could never forget.

But I digress. Mum sent me a letter, which said the following:

_Dearest Hermione, _

_ It's great to hear that things are back to normal with you, Harry, and Ron! I know how much both those boys mean to you. You must really bring Harry by for dinner one night (when you think Ron is able to handle that), as your father and I have yet to properly meet him as your boyfriend, not just as your friend. Let me know when that can be arranged. _

_ On a more serious note, I'm afraid I must get down to business. Sonia (you do remember your Aunt Sonia, right? She lives in Tennessee) wrote to me for the first time in __**years**__. And you'll never believe this, but your cousin, Alexandra (you remember her, right? I believe they visited us in France when you were nine. Alexandra was only seven at the time, but if I remember correctly, you two got along rather well) is a witch! Just like you! I think you're right about there being magical blood in our family generations back. That would explain both you and your cousin having powers! (Don't tell Dad, but the magic must be on my side, since Alexandra's father is my late brother.) _

_ To think! We haven't heard from Sonia and Alexandra all this time, and it turns out that you're both witches! It's simply astounding! _

_ However, I'm sorry to say that this letter does not bear good news. Alexandra has just graduated from the American Academy for Gifted Witches and Wizards, and Sonia desperately wants her to become a doctor. Alexandra, however, wants nothing to do with the Muggle world when it comes to her career (not that I can blame her. I can't imagine asking you to work a Muggle job!) I'm sorry to say that Sonia kicked Alexandra out when she refused to go to medical school, and Alexandra doesn't have the money to support herself. _

_ Long story short, your cousin is in a rough spot. She needs her family to take her in and help her get back on her feet. Your father and I would do it, but I feel that she would benefit from the presence of younger folk, particularly witches and wizards her age. _

_ Would you be willing to take her in until she's back on her feet? _

_ If you're not, don't worry. Your father and I can do it. We just thought we'd ask you. _

_ Write back to me soon, darling! _

_Love, _

_Mum _

I did, in fact, remember my cousin. And I believed that she and I had gotten along fairly well. Of course, we were children then. But I hoped that we could continue that streak now.

"Boys?" I called from my seated position in the den.

"Yes, Hermione?" Harry and Ron chorused back, barely looking up from their game of wizard's chess.

"How do you feel about having a visitor for a few months?"

AHAHAHAHAHAH

Despite our newly healed friendship, Ron and I hadn't spent much time alone together since the break up. After all, the three of us shared a flat, so Harry was nearly always there. So I was slightly surprised when he offered to come with me to the airport to pick up Alexandra when Harry couldn't.

Harry had a job interview scheduled for that day. After defeating Voldemort, he decided he needed a few years to just be normal. He didn't want to go straight from school to saving the world to work. He needed a break. Besides, I'm fairly sure that he had no idea what he wanted to do for a living.

Ron had started playing immediately for the Chudley Cannons (though he was still in the reserves; he swore to Harry and me that he was next in line to become a starter), having dreamt about it since he was little boy, before the three of us ever met.

I had also opted to take a few years off, to explore my options. I hadn't really ever considered life in the Wizarding World past Hogwarts. After all, I spent the vast majority of my time at Hogwarts worrying about keeping Harry alive and helping him defeat Voldemort. But McGonagall (with whom I had kept in touch) had hinted to me that Flitwick was planning to retire after this school year and that I would be her first choice to replace him. I was fairly sure I was going to take the job, but it was only January. Things were far from set in stone.

"Thanks for coming with me, Ron," I said, as I pulled into a parking space. I had made it a point to get my license soon after we moved to Muggle London, so at least one of us would have a means of transportation that we wouldn't have to hide.

"It's no problem," he said, shrugging. "I had the day off, and Alexandra is going to be our house guest for the next few months, so I may as well meet her."

When we arrived at the baggage claim, Ron asked, "Well? Do you see her?"

I glared at him. "Ron, there are hundreds of people here. Of course I don't see her. Can you check to see if her flight came in? She drove down to Atlanta, Georgia to catch a direct flight."

Ron's eyes scanned the board, growing wider as he admired Muggle technology. "There!" he cried finally. "Delta flight two thirty-five from Atlanta, Georgia. Arrived."

"Oh, good," I said cheerfully. "Come on, let's go wait for her in the welcome area."

AHAHAHAHAHAH

I hadn't seen Alexandra in years, but she still looked just as I remembered. Short and petite with strawberry blonde hair and stormy gray eyes. "Alexandra!" I cried, rushing forward. I stopped short right in front of her, my arms open awkwardly, unsure of whether or not I should hug her.

She answered my unspoken question for me as she stepped into my arms and hugged me. "It's good to see you, Hermione," she said, smiling as she stepped back. Her Southern accent was stronger than I remembered, but she made it seem charming somehow. "But please don't call me Alexandra. I go by Alex."

"Alex," I said, testing it out. "How was your flight?"

"Shitty," she replied, shrugging. "I expected nothing less."

I then realized that I had neglected to introduce Ron. "Oh," I said, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him beside me. "This is my best mate, Ron. My boyfriend Harry is at a job interview, but you'll get to meet him later today."

"Great," Alex said, smiling again. She extended her hand to Ron, who stared at it dumbly. "Nice to meet you, Ron. I'm Alex Reese."

He continued to gape at her hand stupidly, so I elbowed him in the ribs. He seemed to snap out of it and grabbed her hand, shaking it a little too enthusiastically. "It's great to meet you, Alex, and you seem every bit as amazing as Hermione described you." Alex flashed me a curious glance, and I shrugged. _Where is Ron getting this from?_ "I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

She laughed. "Can I have my hand back now?"

Ron turned a furious red color and released her hand. I caught sight of the stricken expression on his face, and I knew almost immediately what had happened.

_Ron is smitten with her. Merlin, it's only been five minutes. _

Resisting the urge to burst into laughter, I waved them forward and took one of Alex's bags from her. "Come on, let's get back to the flat."

Alex's POV

That night, Hermione, Harry, and Ron took me to a bar. It was my first time, too, seeing as the legal drinking age in America (even for wizards) was twenty-one. Of course, the age of majority in the American wizarding world was eighteen, so I could do magic. But I couldn't drink.

Ahhh, American government.

So, before I knew it, I was feeling slightly buzzed from the four shots of firewhiskey I had downed.

"You hold your liquor really well," chortled Harry, wrapping an arm around my cousin. "Hermione here usually gets drunk after three shots. She passes out around four."

She scowled at him, but she clearly wasn't all that irritated, for she kissed his cheek a moment later. "Harry, just because she's my cousin doesn't mean you have to tell her every little embarrassing thing about me."

"Sure, it does," said Ron, clapping Harry on the back while looking at me. "What is family for?"

Perhaps it was all the firewhiskey. Perhaps it was the way Ron was staring at me like a pixie had suddenly sprouted from my ear. Perhaps it was a combination of those two things.

Either way, I suddenly started to babble. Apparently, alcohol loosens my lips substantially. "I wouldn't know," I said, hearing my speech slur. _Oh shit. I __**am**__ drunk._ "What family is for. My family _sucks_. My dad died when I was little." I turned to Ron and saw his blue eyes wide as he watching me, clutching a beer tightly in one hand. "Did you know that?" I didn't wait for him to respond before I continued, "And my mom's a bitch. She's the worst kind of Muggle there is. She didn't want me to go to the academy, and I wouldn't have gone if I didn't get a scholarship. And now she wants me to get a Muggle job! Can you believe that? Be a doctor. Psssh. I'm way too old for that shit. I'm fucking eighteen!"

I really didn't know what I was saying. In retrospect… it was nothing but horribly embarrassing. On my first night with Hermione and her friends, too.

"Alex," Hermione said, getting up off of Harry's lap and coming to wrap an arm around me, "maybe you should put down that shot…" She gently pried the shot glass out of my hand and set it on the bar.

"I'm fine, 'Mione," I told her. "Really… promise…"

Then I blacked out.

AHAHAHAHAHAH

I woke up to a pounding headache and the smell of frying bacon.

"Fuck," I said, grabbing my head with my hands and stumbling blindly out of the bedroom. I didn't recognize my surroundings, but I assumed I was at their flat. Where else would I be?

Squinting my eyes against the abnormally bright florescent lights (they aren't actually all that bright, it was just the hangover, as I would later discover), I made my way down the hallway, guided only by the growling of my stomach and the distant smell of frying meat. I finally stumbled into a kitchen and haphazardly sat down on the nearest chair, burying my face in my hands to block out all the light.

_No use. My head is still pounding._

"Ah, look who finally woke up," said a voice, far too loudly. I winced, but I looked up to see Ron at the stove, facing me and smiling.

"Too. Loud," I grunted.

"Oh, right," he said, sounding sheepish as I buried my face once more. "Sorry. Hangover?"

I nodded. I heard some rustling around in the cabinets and a muttered spell. Then something was placed in front of me on the table. Inhaling, I recognized the scent immediately.

_Coffee._

I gratefully took it, but saw that it was black. Frowning, I asked Ron, "Do y'all have any cream? Or sugar?"

"We do," he said, nodding. "But trust me- I've been where you are before. You'll want to drink that black."

I grimaced but agreed, sipping from the mug tentatively. It was incredibly strong, but other than that, not so bad. As I continued to sip, I could feel my headache slowly but surely fading. "I thought Brits only drank tea."

"Generally," he said, turning back to the bacon. "But desperate times call for desperate measures, my friend. Coffee is loads better at curing a hangover than tea."

I felt well enough to look around the room, and for the first time, I noticed two things:

First, there was a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me along with forks and plates. I hastily grabbed a plate and a fork, piling food onto my plate before piling it into my mouth.

Second, we seemed to be alone.

"Where are Harry and Hermione?" I asked through a mouthful of eggs.

If he noticed I was chewing while talking, he didn't show it. "Harry's got another job interview. Hermione's running some errands, and then they're meeting for lunch. 'Mione almost didn't want to leave, but I promised her I'd look after you."

"Look after me?" I echoed, scarfing down what was left of my eggs. Hey, I eat quickly. "What do you mean?"

I relocated to the couch in the den area, curling into the corner with my legs tucked under me. Suddenly, my memory of the bar the night before and the things I had said came flooding back to me. "Fuck," I cursed. "What exactly happened at the bar last night?"

"Bar?" Ron asked, confused. He had turned off the stove and was now piling a plate with eggs and bacon. He came to sit next to me on the couch, placing the plate on his lap.

"I mean the pub," I corrected, waving my hands in the air. "What exactly happened? What exactly did I say?"

"Well…" he said, running a hand through his hair and then digging quickly into his food as if it could make my question go away. "You said a lot of stuff, mate. I don't know what to tell you."

I groaned. "Did I say stuff about my family?"

He avoided my gaze, but nodded nonetheless. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," I mumbled, running a hand over my face. "Well. That's embarrassing. I'm not usually like that, you know. Actually, I'm never like that."

"Must have been the firewhiskey," he told me in between bites. "'S pretty strong stuff. I'm surprised you managed not to pass out that long."

"I passed out too?" I asked. "This just gets worse and worse."

We sat there in silence for a while, me regretting terribly ever laying eye on a shot of firewhiskey and him stuffing his face full of eggs and bacon. When he was done, he set the plate and fork down on the coffee table in front of the couch and cleared his throat awkwardly. "So," he said. "Was it all true? What you said last night?"

I nodded, assuming that what I remembered saying was actually what I had said. "Yeah."

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but I quickly cut him off, saying, "Look. I don't really want to talk about it. Okay?"

"Okay," he said slowly, looking thoughtful. He ran a hand through his bright red hair. "Well, since you don't want to talk, why don't we _do_ something? Harry and Hermione will be out for a while longer, and you've never been to London before, have you?"

I shook my head. He stood, grinning, and offered his hand to me to help me up. "Well, come on, then. I'll give you the tour."


	2. Good Life

**A/N: Don't own, don't sue. Reviews mean the world to me! **

Chapter 2

Hermione's POV

"I'm really worried about Alex."

I was sitting across a small table from Harry at Rizzoli's, one of our favorite Italian restaurants. I bit my lip and lowered my menu to see him looking at me sympathetically with his emerald green eyes. "I know you are, love," he said, taking my hand in his. "It's to be expected. But I'm sure she's fine. Ron's with her."

I shot him a critical look. "Since when did Ron's company ensure safety and well-being?"

"Good question," Harry replied, shrugging. "Well, anyway, she seems like a girl who's capable of handling herself."

"That's just it, Harry," I said, exasperated. "Why do you think she came to live with us? Because she _couldn't_ handle herself."

"Yeah, why _exactly_ is she living with us?" he asked, dropping my hand and looking at me expectantly. "Not that I'm complaining. I really don't mind, Hermione. But… you never told Ron and me what exactly was going on. And I don't think that's fair, seeing as you're not the only one involved in this."

I sighed heavily, blowing some hair out of my face unintentionally.

Harry was right, of course. I hadn't been completely honest with them when it came to Alex, mostly out of concern for her privacy. But still. They deserved to know the basics.

"Okay," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "Here are the basics, and you get nothing more. Alex has a right to her privacy, and she doesn't need you two snooping, got it?"

He looked as though he were about to protest, but he shut his mouth and nodded. "Got it, 'Mione. Ron and I won't 'snoop,' as you so charmingly put it."

"Can you really speak for Ron?"

"Well. No. But I can try."

That was the best I was going to get. So I continued, "Alex is my cousin. Her dad was my mother's brother."

"Was?" Harry echoed, looking concerned. "What do you mean 'was'?"

"He died when Alex was five," I told him, sadly remembering the funeral in America that I had attended. It had been a sad bleak affair. I had seen Alex at the funeral, but hadn't talked to her. She merely stood by the coffin, avoiding her mother, looking as though she were lost to another time, another place, perhaps even another world. "It was horrible. I don't know how he died, but it was certainly unexpected. My mum cried for weeks."

"I'm so sorry, Hermione." I offered Harry a small smile before I moved on.

"Anyway. I officially met Alex two years after that, when she and her mother came with my family to France for the summer. We got along very well, and we were the best of friends during that trip. But we lost touch a couple years later, when I started going to Hogwarts. I fear I was far too caught up in the excitement of it all that I forgot completely about my ties to the Muggle world, other than my parents. Anyway, it turns out that a couple years after we started at Hogwarts, Alex started at the American Academy for Gifted Witches and Wizards. She graduated a few weeks ago. Her mother, Aunt Sonia, wanted her to become a doctor. A Muggle doctor. But Alex doesn't want a Muggle job, understandably. When she refused to go to medical school, Aunt Sonia kicked her out and cut her off. She has very little money, no job, no home. My parents paid for her plane ticket here."

When I finished, Harry whistled long and low. "That's rough," he said. "Truly. So… what is she going to do?"

"I don't know exactly," I replied, trying very hard to keep my voice even. "Mum and Dad wanted us to take her in until she got back on her feet. You know, we're only a couple years older and we're wizards as well. But I'm not entirely sure what 'back on her feet' entails. I don't want to push her to find a job; she just got here after all! Besides, she's not a citizen of England. I'm not sure she'd be allowed a job here."

"Well, I'm sure a wizarding job would be different," he told me reassuringly. "If there are any problems, I can talk to Kingsley on her behalf."

"Oh, thank you, Harry," I said, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly. He smiled broadly at me. "But let's wait a while. Let her get settled in."

Harry frowned. "Speaking of Alex getting settled… have you noticed anything strange about the way Ron's been acting around her?"

Chuckling, I replied, "Yes, of course I have. I saw the looks he gave her at the airport yesterday. I've been on the receiving end of those looks enough to know what they mean. He's quite taken with her."

He nodded. "I'll say. I mean, he cancelled Quidditch plans today to look after her. I've never known Ron to cancel Quidditch plans."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "I thought the season was over…?"

"Oh, it is," Harry assured me. "But Ron and some of his teammates made plans to scrimmage this afternoon in one of his teammate's new indoor stadium, and he cancelled to look after Alex."

"Hmmm," I said, musing over the information he had just given me. "That's… fascinating. You don't… you don't think Ron will try anything, do you?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but probably not for a while. You know how long it took him to try anything with you. And after…"

He hesitated, not wanting to bring up the breakup that had thrown off our equilibrium entirely. "After the break up," I supplied for him, waving my hand to make him continue.

"Right," he said, glancing down at his menu, "after that, I'm sure he'll be even more timid. Merlin knows he doesn't have the guts to even tell her how he feels right now."

AHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Alex's POV

"Giving me the tour" turned out to mean walking me down the street, pointing out a few things, and then taking me to his favorite Chinese restaurant.

Not that I was complaining- I loved Chinese food.

When I was on my sixth Diet Coke (I'm a very thirsty person, don't judge me for it), Ron looked at me and said hesitantly, "Um, Alex? I'd really appreciate it if that could be your last drink."

Looking at him over the top of the glass, I asked, "Why?" Then I realized, "Oh, shit! I'm so sorry, Ron! I forgot that they don't do free refills in Europe. Shit!"

"It's okay," he told me, shrugging. "You didn't know; don't worry about it."

"No, really," I told him earnestly. "I'll pay you back as soon as I have the money." Then, looking out the window, I sighed, "I miss America."

He looked up from his food, concern plastered all over his face. "Do you really? Are you homesick?" he asked, putting down his laden fork and reaching across the table. When I was sure he was going to grab my hand, he hesitated and withdrew slightly.

"I… I guess, I am," I admitted. "I mean… I don't miss my house. I don't miss any_one_. But sure do miss Tennessee. I miss the food, the smell… the small town feeling of it all. God, I miss Chick-fil-a. And Waffle House."

"You miss what?" he asked, looking at me curiously.

"They're restaurants we have in the South," I explained. "And I sure do miss them. What does a girl have to do for some grits in this place?"

"Grits," Ron said, a smile spreading over his face. "I know what those are. They sell them at the supermarket. In a box."

I eyed him warily. "Well, I usually don't deign to eat my grits out of a package, but seeing as I'm in London, I suppose that'll have to do."

AHAHAHAHAHAHAH

"What is all this rubbish?"

Ron was helping me unload the various food items he had purchased for me (I insisted on paying him back, but he wasn't having any of it). He held up a box of Kraft's Macoroni and Cheese. "'Phineas and Ferb' shapes?" he asked questioningly.

"Shut your mouth," I advised him playfully, stacking all the packs of Ramen in a corner of the counter. "You haven't lived until you've seen 'Phineas and Ferb.'"

"If you say so," he chuckled, lining the boxes of Macaroni and Cheese against the wall. "Okay, I think that's it."

"Is it?" I asked, frowning as I peered round the room at the now empty grocery bags. "Huh. Guess it is. We'll just have to go back there in a few weeks, I guess. But _I'm_ paying next time." I poked him in the chest accusingly.

He smiled down at me, and I noticed that he had a good foot and half on me.

_Fuck my height. _

"We'll see," he teased. "So. What do you want to do?"

I sighed and plopped down at the table. "I don't know," I said, shrugging. "You're the one who lives here. Your tour," I pointed at him, "was pretty lame, you know."

"'Lame'?" he echoed, putting a hand over his heart dramatically. "I am mortally offended."

"I only speak the truth," I told him, smiling. "You showed me one street. That definitely does not count as a tour."

His blue eyes suddenly lit up. "You want me to show you something actually worthwhile?"

I nodded my head, interested in what he had planned. He took my hand and hauled me out the door without another word.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Half an hour later, I was standing inside the Battlefield. The Quidditch stadium of-

"You like the Chudley Cannons?" I choked out, looking around in awe, hardly daring to believe it was real.

He grinned. "You could say that."

"I thought I was the only one," I breathed out.

_Oh sweet Merlin. Oh Merlin, I'm actually __**in**__ the Battlefield! I think I've died and gone to heaven. _

Then, a thought suddenly struck me. "How did you get us in here?" I asked. "Quidditch season doesn't start for another couple months."

His grin broadened. "Well, there are benefits to playing for the Chudley Cannons."

I swear my heart skipped a beat or two. "You _play_ for the Cannons?" I breathed, gaping at him.

He nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. "I'm only a reserve, but Coach keeps telling me I'm next in line to start-"

I interrupted him, unable to contain my excitement. _"Holy fucking shit! You play for the fucking Chudley Cannons!"_

He seemed a little taken aback by my outburst, but I quickly hugged him to keep him from freaking out. "Oh Merlin, I'm _hugging_ a Cannons player!"

_Yep. I'm definitely in heaven. _

His arms went around me tightly, and, with my head pressed into his chest (given our height difference), I could hear his heart beating rapidly. I felt my cheeks flush as I pulled away quickly. Avoiding his gaze, I asked hopefully, "Ron… is there any way we could… we could…?"

I trailed off, feeling certain that he would say no. He followed my gaze to the locker room and guessed, "Do you want to play some one-on-one?"

Turning to him, I beamed happily. "I would love too."

AHAHAHAHAHAHAH

"Holy _shit, _you're good!" Ron huffed as we both landed on the spring grass of the Battlefield.

"Thanks," I said, hardly able to contain my elation at being praised by a _professional_ Quidditch player. "I was Chaser on my grade's team all four years. I was Captain my senior year."

Ron looked at me curiously, but said nothing, and I realized that our school system was probably slightly different from theirs.

"Have you ever thought about playing professionally?" he asked, taking the broomstick from me and heading back toward the locker room to put the equipment away.

"Not really," I replied. "Honestly, I don't have a clue about what I want to do. But I do know I want a wizarding job."

"You'll figure it out soon enough," he told me, coming to stand next to me now. "You just graduated. I always knew I wanted to play Quidditch. But Harry and Hermione are just starting to think about their careers. They needed a few years off, after…"

"Voldemort?" I supplied. He winced when I used the name, but nodded. "Yeah, I would imagine. Actually, I can't. I can't imagine that. It all must have been so… so awful."

He looked away. "You got that right."

I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong, but something made me shut up.

_Ron was right there. He was there for all of it. Harry is the Boy Who Lived, and Ron's his best mate. I'm sure he's seen things I could never imagine. I'm sure he's had some tough losses._

So instead of talking, I grabbed his hand and pulled him out toward the street.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Hermione's POV

Months passed. Three, to be exact.

Harry landed a job in the Magical Law Enforcement Department, heading up the hunt for the few Death Eaters that remained on the run.

McGonagall wrote to me, offering me the position of Charms professor, as Flitwick had just tendered his resignation after the end of the school year. I accepted.

Ron, since he hadn't been working during the off-season, had been spending all his time with Alex. They had become rather good friends, and I had to admit, they looked cute together. Not that they were "together." But I was only a matter of time, as Harry and I both knew, even if Ron and Alex said nothing about it.

However, Alex had opened up with me one night when the boys were out with Neville, Dean, and Seamus. We were sitting on the couch in the den, watching television, when I asked, "So I see you've been spending time with Ronald. A lot of time, actually."

She blushed. "Yeah," she said. "But it's not like I have a much of a choice. Harry works every week day, and you seem to be reading all the time! I want to get out and see things!"

I guess I must've looked concerned, because she quickly added, "Not that I mind, 'Mione. Really. I understand that you're really excited about your job, and I'm really happy for you. Truly. But that doesn't mean I'm willing to sit around all day."

I smiled at her. "Understandable. Ron seems to be rather… taken with you."

She blushed an even more furious red color at this, the color of her cheeks reminding me of Ron's hair. "I don't know what you're talking about, 'Mione," she said.

"Oh, rubbish," I said. "He's cancelled plans for you. He buys you lunch every day. He bought you American food from the market so you'd feel more at home. So don't give me that rubbish."

"Fine," she said, sighing. "There is something there, I guess. But I think he's too scared to try anything."

"Then why don't you?" I suggested. "Ron's very timid when it comes to girls. You making the first move could get things started."

She made a face. "I'm not good with relationships. They never end well for me."

I shot her a questioning look. "Everyone always leaves me," she said simply. I forced her to elaborate, but I'd rather not think about it. It was incredibly upsetting, and I wasn't completely innocent.

Anyway, things settled into a routine. Ron and Alex hung out, I prepared for my teaching post, and Harry worked. We would all eat dinner together. On the weekends, we usually took a trip to somewhere outside of the city, somewhere we thought Alex would like. Then the routine would start again.

That is, until Harry broke the routine by getting down on one knee in the middle of Sharpsbury Avenue.

"Hermione, I know we've only been together for several months, but I _love_ you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

There was no question.

And, of course, I said 'yes.'

A week later, we were fretting about how Ronald would take the news. He seemed so happy while he was hanging out with Alex. He seemed to truly fancy her. I didn't want this news to throw him back into a funk. But what could we do? I hated lying to them, and if I told Alex, I would have to tell Ron.

So we decided to surprise them by coming back to the flat for lunch one day. And we would tell them then.

AHAHAHAHAH

Alex's POV

It just… it just _happened_ one morning. Sometimes, I'm still not entirely sure how.

It started off like every other day at the flat in the London. I woke up around ten (which was actually on the early side for me) to find Ron parked in front of the television, waiting for me to get up. "Morning," I greeted him, walking into the den and sitting next to him on the couch, tucking my legs underneath as was my custom.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully, smiling down at me. "You ready for an adventure?"

"Always," I replied.

"Oh, one thing, Alex," he told me, his cheerful mood dampened slightly. "Next week is the last week I'm going to be able to have off. Spring training starts in two weeks, so I'm afraid… you're on your own with your cousin after that."

I grimaced. "Great. I'll have to drag her out of the apartment- I mean, flat."

Ron chuckled. "Well. I hope you've had a good time with me these past few months."

I nodded eagerly. "I really have. Thank you so much, Ron. It's been great."

And then before I knew it, he was kissing me. He swooped in, so that I saw nothing but red hair and just gave me a quick peck on the lips, nothing more.

I sat there, stunned and staring at him. "Sorry," he mumbled, blushing a bright red color. "Sorry, I just had to once. Don't worry about it, it won't happened again."

Rolling my eyed, I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled his face to mine. "Don't apologize," I told him softly. Then I kissed him.

There was nothing short or sweet about the kiss this time. It was all passion and longing and pent up sexual desire. My tongue was in his mouth before long. He pulled back, moaning a little, and began kissing my neck, sucking on my skin in a way was sure was going to leave a hickey.

Then he pulled back, looking at me seriously. "I… I… wow," he said, seemingly speechless.

I gave him a quick peck on the lips. Then I stood. "Come on," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. He grinned and wrapped his arms around my waist. Let's go have that adventure."

**A/N: I know, I know. It's only the second chapter and they're together! Don't worry though. More drama is coming soon. I promise! There's probably one chapter of complete happiness, then- disaster strikes. Stay tuned!**


End file.
